


Satin and Lace

by Dormchi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Christmas, Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've opened the Christmas gifts, but Dean still has one other present for Benny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satin and Lace

Dean isn’t entirely sure that his idea will pan out like he hopes. Still, you can’t blame a man for trying.

 

The remnants of their Christmas morning are scattered around the living room, ranging from the newspaper that Dean had haphazardly wrapped Benny’s presents in to the ridiculous green, glittery wrapping paper that Dean had fought with to get to his presents from Benny.

 

It didn’t help that his smug boyfriend had wrapped everything in four or five layers of the stuff. He’s still picking sparkly crap out from under his fingernails 30 minutes after the fact.

 

“Where did you get this shit?” 

 

“The department store,” Benny drawls, looking way too satisfied with himself as he sips coffee from a cheap Santa-shaped mug. He’s sprawled lazily across the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the disaster area that is their living room, and his large fingers are scratching softly at Dean’s scalp like he has nothing better to do in the world.

 

Dean huffs when he realizes that Benny isn’t going to elaborate any further, and they sit in comfortable silence for the better part of 5 minutes while he tries to work up his nerve. It’s not that he thinks Benny won’t _like_ this idea. He’s just way out of his freaking element here, and he feels weirdly sensitive about this particular fantasy of his.

 

From his spot on the floor, he turns his head so he can look at Benny with anxious green eyes.

 

“What’s on your mind, darlin’?” Benny asks, and his fingers work their way down to Dean’s neck, scratching and kneading at the skin there in the way he knows Dean likes.

 

It takes every inch of self control he’s got to keep from moaning, and when he shifts closer he can feel the familiar itch of lace and the soft, intimate press of satin against his half-hard cock.

 

If Benny likes this as half as much as Dean does, then they’ll definitely be in business.

 

“There’s, uh… another present for you to unwrap.” And well, he doesn’t feel quite as mortified as he thought he would, but there’s definitely some unwelcome heat creeping across his cheeks. He’s nothing if not stubborn, though, so he presses on. “In the bedroom.”

 

Benny leans down and his warm breath ghosts over Dean’s ear. “If you want sex, all you have to do is ask.”

 

Dean watches as Benny sets his Santa mug on the carpet and stands, stretching his muscular arms over his head and sighing. Benny holds out his hand to help Dean up, pulling him to his feet with ease, and then Benny bends and wraps a strong arm around Dean’s backside, hoisting him up and over his shoulder like he doesn’t weigh a good 180 pounds.

 

The indignant squeak that leaves Dean’s mouth isn’t manly in the slightest, and he’ll deny it until the day he dies. All attempts at protesting die on his lips as Benny palms one ass cheek through his sweatpants, squeezing the rounded, fleshy globe as they cross the threshold into the bedroom.

 

Benny lays him down on their king-sized bed with so much care that Dean almost forgets about his plan, perfectly content to just lie there underneath that warm, solid weight. He thrusts his hips up and his cock drags along Benny’s through the fabric, and he’s firmly reminded of his plan by the slide of satin over his aching length.

 

“ _Benny_ ,” he gasps, breathing heavily and digging his fingers into Benny’s shoulders as the man works down the length of Dean’s throat with his mouth. The scratch of his stubble is equal parts distracting and arousing. “This— _shit_ , this isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

 

“Oh?” Benny pulls back immediately, gazing down with so much love and understanding that Dean nearly loses his train of thought again. He’s never had a lover so giving and considerate in bed, and that was why he’d come up with this idea in the first place. To give back to Benny in a new way.

 

That, and some part of him that he’s never bothered to examine too closely _really_ likes how it feels.

 

“Roll off and I’ll show you,” Dean says softly, patting Benny’s side a few times as the man obediently climbs off and scoots up to the headboard. He leans back against their pillows and watches Dean intently, legs spread to give some room to the blatant hard-on tenting his pajama pants.

 

Now this, _this_ is the part that Dean knows goes smoother and looks sexier in his head. He stumbles a little in his haste to get off the bed and stand where Benny can see him well. His shirt is the first thing to go, after he fights with it for a good 15 seconds when it gets stuck around his shoulders. _Good start_ , he thinks a little bitterly, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and inching them down his hips. 

 

The shocking hot pink lace is revealed first, fabric hugging at the narrowest part of the V of his hips, and Dean feels more confident when Benny takes a sharp breath, blue eyes wide and definitely interested. 

 

“Good?”

 

Benny palms his cock through the flannel of his pajama pants in response, and Dean can see clearly see the thick outline of it.

 

He slides the sweatpants down and they drop around his ankles. He pauses for a few long moments, eyes picking a spot on the wall to fix to. The panties aren’t anything special, just black  satin trimmed with pink lace that cling to him in a way that’s pretty damn flattering. He knew that for a fact—he’d modeled them in private twice now, just to make sure that they look damn good.

 

His cock is straining against the fabric, making him shift a little to try and adjust himself. The panties are holding his erection upwards, and the head is already leaking enough precome to paint a sticky smear on his lower belly.

 

When Benny finally says something, it’s Dean’s name and it sounds every bit like a prayer.

 

“C’mere,” he beckons, waving two fingers. Dean steps out of the sweatpants bunched around his feet and crawls onto the bed, kneeling on the comforter and waiting for Benny to tell him what to do.

 

“Ain’t you the prettiest sight?” Benny says fondly, reaching out to cup one hand over the Dean’s jaw. He rubs his thumb along Dean’s stubble, the five o’clock shadow that he’ll have for the next day or so, and then drops his hand. “Lay down on your belly. Get comfortable.”

 

Dean does as he’s told, laying flat on his stomach with his legs spread slightly and grabbing a pillow to rest his head on. He can’t see Benny, but he can hear the man rustling around, probably dropping the flannel pajamas and finding the lube. And really, he’s happy. His surprise went off without any truly embarrassing hitches, and he’s gonna get fucked good and proper by his lover. Mission accomplished, in his book.

 

The hard slap of Benny’s open palm on his left ass cheek startles him so bad he cries out. “ _B-Benny_!”

 

“ _Sugar_ ,” Benny purrs, rubbing his hand soothingly over the stinging flesh. “Did you think you were gonna get off so easy lookin’ like this?”

 

It should worry him that he feels kind of _good_ after getting smacked like a spoiled child, but the second slap comes and Dean thrusts forward into the comforter, pushing his painfully hard dick into the soft give of the blankets and mattress. Benny’s hand rubs in soft circles again, shushing Dean when he whimpers and bites his lip hard enough to hurt.

 

“Jesus, f-fuck, Benny— _aah_!” The third slap comes down harder, and Dean wails for all he’s worth because it feels fucking _amazing_ , the sharp pain mixed with the mindless throbbing of his cock and the insistent rub of satin.

 

“I think I can unwrap my present now.” It’s all Benny says before Dean feels him hook a finger in the crotch of the panties and pull the fabric to the side. He tries to lift himself up so he can look back and see, but Benny pushes at his lower back to keep him down.

 

As soon as Dean stills, Benny spreads his ass cheeks and makes an appreciative noise, one that makes Dean flush fifty shades of pink and embarrassed from head to toe. He’ll never get used to Benny thinking his hole is anything special.

 

“Be good, darlin’, and stay still.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean breathes heavily against the pillow, pointedly aware of the wet spot forming on the bed underneath his leaking cock.

 

Benny blows over his puckered hole, then presses his tongue flat against it and hums, thick fingers gripping the soft flesh of Dean’s ass and holding his cheeks apart as he works. 

 

Dean writhes uselessly, pushing forward for friction on his cock and back for more of Benny’s tongue on his ass. He’s trembling all over, making these whimpering, needy cries that he’s too far gone to be embarrassed about. Benny’s tongue is relentlessly working him open, saliva sliding down his crack and over his balls.

 

“B-Benny, fuck, fucking _God_ , don’t ever stop—”

 

His orgasm coils tightly in his belly and his balls, and he cries out when he comes, thrusting his spurting cock against the comforter as Benny lands another sharp _slap_ on his ass.

 

He rides out his orgasm and then collapses, too fucked out to even worry about the mess underneath him or the wonderful man still lapping affectionately over his hole. Benny stops after a few moments and spreads Dean’s ass cheeks wider, whistling at his handiwork. Dean shivers as his cock makes a half-hearted attempt at getting hard again.

 

“This was supposed to be _your_ present,” he says, completely unwilling to admit that he kind of sounds like he’s whining after having his ass tongue-fucked.

 

Benny smiles at him like he’s everything important in the world, and it makes Dean’s chest ache with something he’s dangerously close to admitting is lo— looo— lo—

 

Benny is his everything, too.

 

“You’re hard.”

 

“So I am,” Benny replies lazily, scooting up to the lay next to Dean. He flops backwards on to a pillow and closes his eyes, sighing contentedly.

 

Dean peels himself from the sticky mess on the bed and crawls over to Benny, leaning over to press a kiss to his mouth. Benny presses his tongue to the seam of Dean’s lips and Dean opens for him, and there’s none of the urgency from before, just two incredibly happy men taking the time to explore each other fully.

 

“I can take care of it,” Dean whispers hotly when they pull apart, because he wants Benny to feel just as good, to come apart under his lips and tongue.

 

“Anything you want, sugar.”


End file.
